Beautification
by Fikcja
Summary: Oneshot. "Because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Hermione,” George replied with a smile, “and a beauty potion is the last thing you need." HG/GW - Prior friendship is assumed.


Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I do not own Harry Potter or related characters/settings.

Beautification

"Ugh, finally!" Hermione Granger exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.

Had she uttered those very words in a similar tone two years ago, her friends would have express mailed her (or express flooed, as the case may be) to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

But the past few years had been good to her. Her zest for learning certainly hadn't diminished, but her overzealous attitude towards memorizing textbooks and regurgitating them word for word in class had mellowed. She was no longer an insufferable know-it-all-- just a smart, conscientious student.

The cause of Hermione's heartfelt (and popular) sentiment could be traced back to the bowels of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She and her Gryffindor housemates had just emerged from the dungeons after a particularly grueling "let's test everyone's antidote since it's the last day before holidays" Potions lesson.

With the approach of the holidays, Severus Snape, renowned Potions Master and Hogwarts' very own "Overgrown Bat", appeared to have attained correspondingly higher levels of vindictiveness.

"What are you complaining about?" Ron grumbled, "At least your antidote worked!"

"I told you to put the frog liver in before the armadillo bile, Ronald, but did you listen? Of course not!" Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes and sashaying up the steps.

Two pairs of eyes followed her progress.

Harry Potter, boy wonder, and Ron, quintessential member of the red-haired and freckled Weasley family, couldn't help noticing that the past couple of years hadn't just tempered Hermione's straight-laced personality. They had honed her physical appearance as well.

Though still slim, her body had filled out nicely, the curves small but attractive. Her once bushy brown hair now hung in tame curls down her back and her facial features had lost the slightly rounded quality of youth.

The boys had to admit that their best friend, who they had long considered "one of the guys", was, in fact, a girl. And an exceptionally pretty girl at that.

As the three friends made their way to the Great Hall, a flash of movement caught Hermione's eye.

"Wait here," she said, smiling mischievously. "You're going to love this."

Harry and Ron watched as she sauntered out into the hallway, slowly making her way towards a side corridor. Arriving at a suit of armour, she quickly sidestepped left and watched as a water balloon exploded on the marble floor beside her. "Heads up!" she grinned.

"Euuugghhh!"

Hermione winked at the two boys, who were torn between wanting to laugh and being shocked at this never-before-seen side of their friend, before sprinting down the hallway, an ink-covered Fred and George Weasley hot on her heels.

She raced down Hogwarts' myriad hallways, laughing as she darted behind hidden doorways, dodged various suits of armour, and avoided sinking steps. She could hear the scandalized shouts of the moving portraits as she sped by.

"Hermione Granger!"

Her name echoed along the deserted corridor as George tackled her to the floor. She rather enjoyed having him on top of her. He was attractive in that goofy, good-natured kind of way.

His disposition was friendly and he exuded such self-assuredness that, when around him, one immediately felt at ease. She loved the way his easy going smile invited confidences, the way his eyes lit up at the corniest of jokes, the way he paled when he was worried, causing those countless freckles to stand out all the more clearly against his skin…

And those hands! _How expressive they were!_

Clenched into fists when he was angry, twisting the hem of his shirt when he was nervous, waving wildly through the air when he was excited…

'_And all the better to touch you with_,' she thought, fighting off a giggle.

The sound of his uncontrollable laughter brought her attention back to the present.

"Man, you're good!" he grinned profusely, proceeding to transfer as much ink onto her as possible.

"I really do deserve more credit than that," Hermione replied with a smirk.

"Oh really."

"Yes, really."

"How do you figure that?"

"Aside from the fact that _my_ plan caused _your_ plan to backfire," Hermione said smugly, "That's not ordinary ink. It's cleverly designed to bring out the most, shall we say, _feminine_ aspects in the wearer. And you've just deigned to test it."

George looked down at the dark haired girl in wonder, completely forgetting that she was pinned beneath him. "How much does it take?" he asked.

"Just a drop will do, but I suppose it depends on how much "beautification" you need."

"It's a good thing George got the brunt of it, then," Fred grinned, "He's the more unfortunate looking of us two."

"I don't know, Fred, those curls _are_ pretty flattering," Hermione laughed, examining his golden curls, rosy cheeks, and long lashes.

"These effects aren't… permanent, are they?"

"They're a side-effect before the ink disappears. Pretty unfortunate for anyone who, say, accidentally spills some, eh?"

"You're a genius," George exclaimed, looking at her.

"Now that's more like it," Hermione laughed.

George continued staring at her, transfixed by the sheer brilliance of the girl lying beneath him. He took in the wild mop of hair that, splayed on the floor, crowned her head like a lion's mane, the dark brown eyes sparkling with life, the small hands resting on his knees…

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"The ink didn't change you."

"No, I'm a girl. It doesn't wo- why are you staring at me?" she asked, bewildered.

George leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers. "Because you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Hermione," he replied with a smile, "and a beauty potion is the last thing you need."

He gently brushed his lips against hers before pulling back with a grin.

"Ugh, get a room!" Fred rolled his eyes in mock disgust.

George just laughed and pulled Hermione to her feet. "So does this mean you'll go to the ball with me?"

"Give me three good reasons why I should and I'll think about it," she retorted, raising a brow and crossing her arms in an impeccable imitation of Snape.

"It's really rather frightening how well you do that," he commented, taking in her stance.

"You want me to go to the ball with you because you find my skillful impersonation of Snape frightening?" Hermione's lip twitched.

"No. I want you to go to the ball with me because firstly, no girl could possibly resist my magnetic charm. Secondly, though I _am_ rather sweet, having you on my arm would be like having whip cream, sprinkles, and cherries on what would otherwise be plain vanilla ice cream. And thirdly," he whispered, pulling Hermione close, "Because I think I'm falling in love with you."

Hermione's eyes closed as a happy smile bloomed on her face. "You've got yourself a date," she whispered, pressing against him. "And about the ink… I think Snape leaves his door unlocked before lessons."


End file.
